TwoThousand and Rising
by hamgsrship
Summary: In response to July FanFic Challenge on GSRFO. A charity event has the women of CSI being auctioned off as "Slaves for a Night," and Grissom bids on the wrong beauty. What happens when he realizes the one he really wants is being sold to another man?


A/N: In response to July Fanfiction Challenge on GSRFO. A charity event has the women of CSI being auctioned off as "Slaves for a Night," and Grissom bids on the wrong beauty. What happens when he realizes the one he really wants is going to be sold to another man?

Two-Thousand and Rising

"Alright, who's going to start the bid on this voluptuous brunette with the amazing ability to practically lift prints from water?" Doc Robbins asked as he stood in his tuxedo at the podium in front of the night crews of LVPD and CSIs. "Okay, let's start at $50."

"Fifty dollars?" Mandy asks as she put her hands on her hips, causing her blue sequin gown to sway around her legs. "I'm not going with "anyone" for only fifty dollars!"

"Seventy-five," calls a dark-haired CSI from midway back in the room.

"Gotta do better than that!" Mandy called to him.

"A hundred!" Called a blonde officer who had been eying the young woman for the past fifteen minutes.

"That's getting closer," Mandy said then turned back toward her CSI.

"One-fifty!" Nick spoke up again.

"Three hundred!"

"Five!"

The officer looked at Mandy as if debating with himself over the price, then waved his hand in defeat.

"Sold!" Doc slammed his hammer down on the wood in front of him. "Five hundred dollars to Nick Stokes!"

"Still not enough, cowboy!" Mandy called to him, making Nick chuckle as he approached the stage and took her hand, escorting her down the steps to him.

"I know, I know," he laughed. "Five hundred and a song."

She smiled brightly at him and went along as he took her to the cashier's table toward the side of the room.

"Next, we have a beautiful blonde CSI who can come do an autopsy with me any day!" Doc joked as Sophia Curtis went to the center of the stage.

She looked out amongst the men in black until she spotted her target. Gil Grissom stood near the bar, tugging on his tie as he looked around the room.

"Looking for someone?" Jim Brass asked Grissom after sipping from his scotch.

"No. Why would I be looking for anyone?" He asked indignantly.

"It's a good turn out. Who came up with this idea of auctioning off the women as slaves for the evening?"

"Conrad," Grissom said with distaste. "Frankly, I'm surprised the women are going along with it."

"I'm surprised they aren't demanding equal action—that we go up for auction instead of them." He turned his back to the bidding. "I guess the cause was right. The Women's Center is going to make a bundle if they're getting five hundred a gal."

"I don't think they're going to be bidding that high as a rule. Most of the guys around here don't have the kind of cash to give away like that. Nick was just putting on a show, as always."

"Really?" Jim asked. "I thought I saw a little affectionate touching going on between the two of them."

"They joke around at work. As far as I know, that's as far as it's gone."

"Hmm," Jim looked at Grissom with a bit of mischief in his eyes. "I'd really have expected him to wait to bid for Sara. I know how they get along. I think he's even closer to Sara than he is Mandy."

Grissom looked at Jim, then back toward the stage. "Sara's not here. I hadn't seen her name on the list. She must be one of the women who didn't approve of such chauvinism."

"Come on, Gris!" Doc Robbins called from the podium. "You can start the bid on this little beauty!"

Grissom looked at Sophia as she stood in her pink gown. She certainly was attractive, he couldn't deny that. Oh, well—if he had to pay for one of them, it might as well be her. Give the cashier a few hundred bucks then he'd head back to the lab for some overdue paperwork. Sophia could stay and enjoy the party.

"One hundred," Grissom told him.

"One-fifty!" Came a bid from someone on the other side of the room that Grissom couldn't see.

"Two hundred."

"Two-fifty."

"Three," Grissom told him then waited, but no reply came other than Doc Robbin's "Three hundred it is. Come and claim your prize, Gilbert."

"You look lovely tonight," Grissom told Sophia as he took her hand and assisted her down the stairs to join him, but just as he was about to return to Jim with his "date" for the night, he saw her.

She stood slightly behind the curtain but he could still see her and he could see that she was watching him. Sara was absolutely stunning in an ivory gown that hugged her features as it flowed over her. She was a vision of pure elegance and as he took another step toward the bar, he stumbled slightly and heard a distinct "oomph" come from next to him.

"Jesus, Grissom," Jim laughed at him. "You're stepping all over the lady's feet. Be careful or she won't be fit to mop your kitchen floor when you get her started on her "slave" duties."

"You're sorely mistaken, Jim," Sophia told him then gave Grissom a dirty look as he continued to look back toward the curtain. "I won't be mopping anyone's floors tonight, but I still need my goddamned toes!"

"I beg your pardon," Grissom told Sophia absently, then looked back toward the curtain again, only to find that Sara was gone.

"I think you tore the strap on my shoe. I need to go to the ladies room to fix it," Sophia said with obvious irritation, then disappeared as well.

"As everyone knows, this next firecracker is a real looker, but don't get her angry or she'll show you who the real boss is!" Doc announced and received a dirty look from Sara as she walked out onto the stage. "Who wants to start the bidding?"

"Three hundred!" Came another voice from across the room, making Grissom turn to look with more determination to see who it was. The sight of the dark-haired Adonis turned his attention back to the stage in a hurry.

"Okay! Starting at three hundred!" Doc continued. "Anyone else going to take it up to three-fifty?"

"Four hundred," slipped out of Grissom's mouth before he could stop it, making everyone laugh.

"Sorry, Gil," Doc looked at him. "Only one to a customer. No getting greedy."

Without looking back, Grissom nudged Brass. "Bid—now."

"I'm not bidding for her! I'm bidding on someone else."

"Bid on her!" Grissom insisted. "I'll find Hodges and have him bid on whomever you want."

Brass looked at him as if in indecision then raised his hand. "Four hundred."

"Five," called the dark-haired detective.

"Six," whispered Grissom then was repeated by Brass.

"One thousand!"

"Shit," Grissom breathed. "Go up—go up! She's not going home with him!"

"One thousand and fifty," Brass said but received a jab from Grissom.

"Not by fifty! More than that!"

"Ow! Jesus, Gris!"

"Twelve hundred!" Dark-haired Adonis called.

"Fifteen," Grissom whispered and was repeated by Brass.

"Eighteen hundred!"

"Nineteen," Brass repeated.

"Two thousand!"

Grissom watched as Sara stood on the stage, looking more and more uncomfortable with each bid. "Twenty-five hundred," he told Jim.

"No way!" Jim told him. "I'm not shelling out twenty-five hundred dollars just so you can keep Sara from going out on a date with some young stud."

"Do we have two thousand one hundred?" Doc asked.

"I'll pay you back," Grissom told him quickly as he glanced from him back to Sara.

"Nope. You've got to find someone else. I'm saving my dough for the red-head."

"Catherine?" Grissom's brows rose as he looked at Brass and he received a sheepish grin.

"Going once!" Said Doc.

"You're going to bid on Catherine?"

"Going twice!"

"Yeah—what's wrong with Catherine?"

"You're too old for Catherine."

"I am not too old for Catherine," Jim scoffed. "I'm only a few years older than her."

"Gone three times! Detective Johnson, come and claim your prize!"

This snapped Grissom's head back toward the stage as he watched Sara being escorted to the floor. The first thing the good Detective Johnson did was let his hand slide down over the back of her gown and grasp onto a beautiful round globe of ass. He swiftly got elbowed in the side and removed his hand immediately.

"Hey," Greg Sanders approached Jim and Grissom with one of his "whatcha doin' grins" on his face. "What did you do to Sophia? She's headed out of here with Joe Peters, saying something about you broke her toe."

"She's gone?" Grissom asked.

"Yep. Evidently this Peters guy wanted to buy her, but he was outbid—and since you broke one of her digits, she decided the better deal would be Peters."

"I see." Grissom looked back toward where Sara and Detective Johnson had disappeared, then went in that direction. "If the two of you will excuse me. . ."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Why in the hell did I let you talk me into this?" Sara asked Catherine as she stood next to her behind the curtain, waiting to be auctioned off as "slave for a night." She pulled at the front of her dress, very aware that her breasts were about to spill out at any moment. Catherine chuckled as she looked over at her, wearing an emerald green gown that looked absolutely amazing on her.

"Because you knew a certain CSI supervisor would be here. Now if we can only get him to bid on you, you're all set." She grabbed Sara's arm and pulled her a step back as she pointed to the blonde wearing the hot pink gown who was just going out onto the stage for her auctioning. "Look at her," Catherine scoffed. "She looks like a giant piece of Double Bubble!"

This made Sara giggle, until she heard Doc Robbins suggesting that Grissom bid on Sophia. Her face sobered completely when he actually started bidding. Suddenly the whole idea seemed completely absurd to her. What in the hell did she think she was doing, standing here in a gown among all these beauties. She felt out of place and wanted nothing more than to run home and jump into a pair of sweat pants and a tank top, then grab a half-gallon container of double-chocolate-marshmallow ice cream and a big spoon.

"You look lovely tonight," came Grissom's voice as he assisted Sophia from the stage and Sara felt her eyes tear.

"I'm sorry, honey," Catherine said with genuine sympathy in her voice. "I never expected him to actually bid for her."

"Why not?" Sara straightened and held her head a bit higher. "She's young, beautiful, sexy in that whorish sort of way. She should be perfect for him."

"As everyone knows, this next firecracker is a real looker, but don't get her angry or she'll show you who the real boss is!" Doc announced and received a dirty look from Sara as she walked out onto the stage. "Who wants to start the bidding?"

Sara wasn't particularly paying attention from that point on other than to notice that Detective Johnson was bidding against Jim Brass. She hoped Jim would win, then she wouldn't have to worry about wandering hands—maybe going home with him and scrubbing his bathroom floor for him, but other than that he treated her like a favorite niece or sometimes even a daughter. Her eyes adjusted to the bright lights shining onto the stage and she could see Grissom standing with Brass, evidently edging him on in the bidding and getting a kick out of seeing her in such an awkward position. But in the end, it was Detective Johnson who came up and took her hand as she walked down the steps to the dance floor. It was also Detective Johnson whom she elbowed in the side when his hands began wandering over her ass.

"Okay, everyone's favorite red-head CSI agent. . .Catherine Willows, come on out!" Doc said over the microphone and when she went onto the stage there were whistles and hoots coming from various areas of the room.

Sara was just about to turn to watch who actually won her when she nearly bumped into Grissom who was now standing directly behind her.

"Grissom," Detective Johnson said as he put his arm around Sara's waist and pulled her up tightly against his side. "I didn't know you had a thing for Sophia Curtis. You got a good deal, she'll make you "real" happy tonight, I'm sure."

Grissom looked at the detective then let his gaze slide down to where Sara was trying to remove the man's hands but to him it looked as if she were caressing his fingers.

"Johnson," Grissom acknowledged briefly then looked at Sara. "I thought you were on the clock tonight."

"Warrick traded with me. I'll be working next weekend for him."

"I didn't approve this."

"I didn't think it was such a big deal."

"I "am" your supervisor. I'd like to be kept apprised of what's going on in my department."

"Well, consider yourself apprised," Johnson said as he moved up behind Sara and pressed himself against her backside, sliding his hands around her in what looked to be an affectionate hug but was turning Sara's stomach.

"Johnson, as far as I know, you're not one of my crew, so you can keep your opinions to yourself. Sara, you, on the other hand, "are" one of my crew, and unless you want written up for abandoning your shift, I'd recommend that you meet me back at the lab in half an hour." He turned and walked back toward the bar where he picked up his drink, took the shot then moved out the door.

"Who in the hell is he kidding?" Johnson said as he leaned even more fully into Sara and pressed his lips to her ear as he started swaying his hips against her.

"I've got to go," she said, more to get out of the situation with this octopus than to actually do as Grissom ordered.

"Hey! I paid two thousand bucks for you!" He called after her and grabbed her hand.

She grabbed his wrist and gave him a menacing look that made him release her immediately. "Tell them you want your money back—your slave was defective."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Sara made her way down the mostly abandoned hallways in the lab toward Grissom's office. When she opened the door, she found him standing behind his desk, putting a book back on a shelf. He turned and looked at her over his shoulder and she almost wilted under his stare. Goddamn! But he looked good! Black tux that he had opened at the neck, evidently upon leaving the ballroom at the hotel, with those gorgeous blue eyes and his salt and pepper curls and beard. . .she would have swooned if she hadn't had a certain blonde-haired woman in the back of her mind.

"Where's your date?" Sara asked as she moved to stand at the front of his desk. "Having trouble keeping track of her?"

Grissom looked at the vision in front of him. The dimness of the room with the little bit of light coming from his desk lamp made her look as if she were glowing and completed the whole sight that made his stomach coil. He slowly walked toward her until he was standing directly in front of her, giving her one of his Grissom stares that would make a lesser man cringe, but Sara continued to watch at him with those gloriously chocolate eyes.

"Consider yourself written up, Sara."

"For what!" She crossed her arms over her chest as she stared at him. "For changing weekends with Warrick? Catherine and Nick switch all the time!"

"They make me aware of it before it happens."

"No they don't! The last two times, Catherine switched because Lindsey was sick one week and she came home late the other. There were no advance notices—"Catherine" didn't even know it was going to happen!"

He turned to go back to his seat. "I'm not backing down on this one, Sara. And the fact is, Warrick left an email to inform me of the change. He covered himself. You didn't think it was necessary."

His attempt to take refuge behind his desk was stopped when she reached out and grabbed his arm, yanking on him so hard he was turned to his right and landed up against the edge of the furniture. Sara moved to stand in front of him in an instant.

"This isn't about switching weekends or leaving emails, is it? It's about Sophia! You're pissed because she took off, and you're taking it out on me!"

"Don't be ridiculous," he told her and attempted to turn away from her but she grabbed his arm again.

"And-and just because I showed up at the damned auction didn't give you the right to stand there and try to make a fool out of me with Jim!"

"What are you talking about? How was I making a fool out of you?"

"You saw that the only other person bidding was Johnson, so you had Brass up the bid so high that no one else would consider it. Did you have a nice laugh over sending me out on a date with the vilest man on the force?"

"If I was trying to set you up with Johnson," he said stiffly, "then why did I come over immediately and tell you to meet me in my office?"

She blinked at him as she contemplated that. "I—I don't know." Soon her ire returned. "Then why? Why are you doing this?"

"Just go home," he mumbled as he tried to turn toward the back of his desk again.

"I want to know why!" Sara insisted and when he continued toward his chair, she grabbed his arm and swung him around again. "Why?"

This time her force was a little more than last time and he grabbed onto her to keep from losing his balance. Her insistence was pushing him into a corner and when he looked at her angry face, he seemed to lose control of the icy shell he always hid behind.

He grabbed her upper arms and started walking her back, away from his desk. His intention was to get her to stop her advance on him and when he had her against the sofa, he gave her a tiny shove, making her bounce her butt on the cushions.

"Cool it, Sara!" He looked at her startled face a moment then started for the door so he could leave the office, but she reached out and grabbed the leg of his trousers.

"Oh, no you don't!" She growled but the moment she yanked on the cloth, her growl turned into a yelp as she felt the cloth giving way in the front.

He stopped immediately, afraid to take a step as he grabbed onto the front of his pants to keep them from being pulled down the rest of the way. His eyes were huge when he turned back toward Sara and stared at her in disbelief. The sight of him standing before her, grasping onto his pants was more than Sara could handle at that moment, and the smile started in her eyes then spread to her lips until she was wearing that million-watt Sidle smile.

"You ripped my pants!" Grissom hissed in disbelief.

She got to her feet in front of him and nodded her head as she walked past him. "Uh-huh. I did. Guess you can't go back to the auction now, can you?"

"I wasn't planning on it!" He told her with irritation, then took an awkward step after her and grabbed onto her shoulder. "And where do you think you're going?"

His cuff link got caught in her gown and as she continued to walk away, it shredded the material until it got stuck at her waistline. She stopped in an instant, disbelief now spread across her features as she tried to look at the damage done to her dress.

"Well, I wasn't planning on it either! But you didn't have to ruin the gown!" She took another step toward the door, but pulled Grissom along. She looked down at where his hand remained on her waist. "Let go of my dress."

"I can't. My cuff link is stuck."

"What do you mean it's stuck?" She asked as she turned rapidly in an attempt to see what had happened and pulled him around with her. "How in the hell did you manage that?"

"Would you stand still?" He ordered then moved her over closer to the lamp to see how he was stuck. "Now it's wrapped around it so tight, it's a wonder you're not cutting off the circulation in my hand."

"Well," she looked at him with grit teeth, "get—it—off!"

"I'm trying. I need the scissors but if I let go of my pants, they'll fall."

She twisted around until she was facing him and in so doing, wrapped his arm around her even tighter. "Back up to your desk—I'll get the scissors."

He did as she instructed, but when she picked the scissors from the desk drawer and kept turning to try to get the scissors into position, she pulled them together even more tightly.

"Sara! You're making it worse!"

"Well, I can't see to cut it." She looked up at him then got a mischievous smile in her eyes although she tried to remain sober. "I know. You take the scissors—and I'll hold your pants closed."

He looked down at her with doubt then gave a single nod and waited until her hands moved to the front of his pants and he took the scissors from her. He also had a hard time trying to see over her shoulder to where his cuff link was caught, but he pulled and stretched to get the scissors into position without hurting either her or himself. The more he struggled, the more their bodies rubbed together and he could feel himself going from the semi-rigid state of arousal that she had already had him in, into a rising pole that he couldn't control.

"Uh-oh," she started to giggle as her fingers lightly grazed over the part of him that was growing with each attempt to release them. "Dead man walking—or should I say, dead man "on the rise?"

He glanced down at her and felt himself redden under her inspection. He closed his eyes in embarrassment but opened them immediately when she started backing up, pulling him with her.

"What are you doing?"

"I guess you're not as immune to me as you say," she told him with amusement as she backed up to the door then released his pants and locked the entryway to his office. He automatically tried to grab onto his trousers, but stopped when he remembered the scissors. He looked at her dancing eyes again then dropped his head in defeat. "How about we do it this way?"

She made him back up a step away from the door then she twisted and pulled on the dress until she had the sleeves completely off of her arms then pushed the rest of the gown down over her hips, allowing him to bend with her as she stepped out of it. As they straightened, she stood before him wearing only a bra, panties and heels, then she stepped closer and took the scissors, quickly snipping the gown away from his cuff link. She tossed the dress onto his desk then looked down at the evidence of his arousal before moving her hands to his tie and pulling it from his collar. He simply stood there, watching her with eyes that were becoming more intense with each movement her fingers made; dancing over the buttons of his shirt until she was pushing it, as well as his jacket, over his shoulders. She pulled it off him completely and backed up with the piece of apparel until she was leaning back against his desk, holding it in front of her.

He sighed then gave up completely as he glanced toward the door, then back to her. He took two steps until he was in front of her and pulled her into his arms.

"Sara," he breathed against her lips then covered them with his own.

She grabbed onto his tee-shirt and pulled him even more tightly against her, spreading her legs around him as he stood there. Her hands needed to feel more of him and they slid up under his shirt and the very feel of his skin sent shivers through her. His hands gripped onto the back of her head and neck as he held her still and his mouth found the taste he had been yearning for years. She reached lower, letting her slender fingers come in contact with the hot velvet of him and his groan reverberated through them, ending their kiss momentarily as he gasped, then as he held his forehead to hers he paused before returning to her mouth, this time, letting his tongue explore the lips he had just been kissing. Her fingers took him in her grasp and she investigated him thoroughly; his size sending a thrill through her clear to her spine.

"Oh, God, Gris," she moaned into his mouth then got to her feet and started walking him backward.

He only lifted his head from her kiss when he felt the sofa at the back of his legs, then he pulled back to look at her a moment before quickly pushing his trousers and boxers down over his thighs and allowing his erection to spring between them. He watched her looking at him, inspecting him but trying to be inconspicuous about it. She pressed on his chest, indicating that she wanted him to sit on the sofa, then she knelt before him and looked at him for a final sign of any rejection. All she could see was an intense desire that burned in his eyes as he silently watched her. His legs seemed to spread on their own and she moved between them as far as she could manage considering that he was still wearing his shoes and his pants were down around his calves.

Her intense desire dried her lips and she swiped her tongue over them and in so doing Grissom sucked air between his teeth and closed his eyes. She lowered her head before he had the chance to recuperate and she grasped onto him, guiding him into her mouth. She couldn't believe this was happening. She actually had the man sliding between her lips as she would occasionally graze him lightly with her teeth. Gilbert Grissom, the man she had been dreaming about for years, tasted and felt as glorious as she had always imagined.

"Sara," he breathed, but when she kept doing what she had been doing, he choked her name out a little louder. "Sara—stop."

His fingers were moving through her hair and she lifted her head and looked at him. He moaned and grabbed her under her arms, pulling her up until his lips were on hers again. He gently lowered her onto the sofa with her legs across his lap, and he leaned over, kissing her deeply and sensuously as his hand stroked the sensitive skin on her hip then moved lower, over her thigh, then back up its inside.

"Gris," she breathed against his mouth as she held his face with her hands.

He kissed her palm then took his kisses lower, stopping at her throat as his fingers danced over the moist center of her panties. He bit and sucked at her white skin, then moved down to where her lacy bra was holding her breasts. He nuzzled between them, and when she pushed her straps down and released her breasts from their cups, he quickly found a nipple that he sucked and gently bit before he went back to suckle again. His fingers found their way inside her panties and he took his time as he pleasured in feeling the curls that covered her. When he slid his finger between her folds, she thought she had died and gone to heaven; when he slid two fingers inside of her and started to stroke her hardened bead with his thumb, she was "sure" she had died and gone to the great beyond.

He stroked her and suckled at her, nipping and pressing until she was arching her back and pressing her hips against him. He worked her faster and harder, bringing her breaths in short pants that had him throbbing in need. He didn't even realize when he had moved, but he had managed it, flipping with her until he was kneeling between her long legs and guiding his girth inside her panties leg, sliding into her with such elation as he towered above her that he had to close his eyes to try to control himself. But the sensation was too new to him, too severe and soon, he was leaning over her with her legs over his arms as he pumped inside of her. He could feel himself tightening even farther and as he opened his eyes and looked down at the vision below him he had to fight to keep from releasing himself into her.

"Sara, honey," he breathed as he moved one hand down and started moving his finger over her in a steady circular motion. "Come for me, sweetheart."

Almost as if on cue, she threw her head back and arched herself, crying out his name as she started spasming around him. Her body milked his until he came so hard he thought he saw stars and when he was through, he collapsed on top of her and she held her arms around him, both breathing heavily. Finally, Grissom was capable of movement as he looked down at her and she smiled at him. He slowly managed to get to his feet and he pulled up his pants then picked up her dress. When she sat up and looked nervously at him, he took her hand and pulled her to her feet, then dropped the dress down over her head. He picked up his shirt and jacket and put his shirt on, then draped his jacket over her shoulders to cover the tear in her dress.

"Come along, firecracker," he suggested as he opened his office door and took her hand then put his arm around her waist as he started walking down the hall. "It's time to go to my place and set off more rockets."

THE END


End file.
